black balloons

It's that time of the semester, when everyone is running around not knowing what direction they are actually headed in. Three papers, three exams....one of the papers counting as my final, I'm feeling the pressure. 

Doctor appointment today, nothing new to report, but a more official diagnosis. New medication, not too happy about it. When I start out on a new medication I never know how I'm going to react to it. It's kind of like going to sleep and never know who you're going to wake up as tomorrow. Michael seems to think I was getting better on the previous medication, but then again there were way to many side effects with it, so today my physician made the switch.  We'll see how it goes. I'll try to keep you updated.

Lately I've stayed busy with school, thus why less postings. I miss posting. It's a way of release, and it's such a great feeling. Letting loose my thoughts and just going with the flow of my soul.  There are just some times when I want to scream, ever feel that way? Completely and thoroughly angry, annoyed, frustrated, & stressed. Why can't things in life be simple, similar to this photograph? Or can we all just grab a balloon and make our troubles disappear?  Is it that easy?


"There are things we can't recall, blind as night that finds us all
Winter tucks her children in, her fragile china dolls
But my hands remember hers, rolling 'round the shaded ferns
Naked arms, her secrets still like songs I'd never learned

There are names across the sea, only now I do believe
Sometimes, with the windows closed, she'll sit and think of me
But she'll mend his tattered clothes and they'll kiss as if they know
A baby sleeps in all our bones, so scared to be alone"

I often find myself pondering my childhood, memories of my grandfather getting on his hands and knees romping around through the house like a horse, going rock collecting and then spray painting the rocks three distinct colors; red, green, & gold. Then the time I had the chicken pox, my papaw came over every day with a new barbie doll for me (I had the chicken pox longer than most children, so I ended up with about 8 barbies). He built me paper houses out of construction paper, sounds insignificant, but they were really great model houses. He would cut out a piece of card board for the base of the "land", then past green, brown, and black paper for the road, dirt, and grass. On top of that he would construct whatever color of house you wanted. I wanted a red house so he made me one. My cousin Rachael wanted a white house and that is what she got. We had trees, and white fences around them, and also flowers. My grandfather has always been a very patient, very talented man, well as long as I have known of him, or what I can remember of him at least. 

"...Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast..."

Nonsense is beautiful. 

~T